Shadows
by oreo-hunter-of-artemis
Summary: Adalyn has always felt different from her perfect family. Called crazy and ridiculed by her own parents. She never realized exactly how different until the shadows start to talk. Is going to be continued.
1. Chapter 1

I always felt like I was born in the wrong family. My sister even said I was adopted and for awhile, I believed her. My parents never stopped her or reassured me that I wasn't. Why would they? They hated me. Called me crazy. The school kids weren't much better. They used to chant, 'Addy, Addy has no friends. So, she stays inside and hides in bed.' Not very smart or well-thought out but I learned, in insults, its the thought that counts. They were cruel and I was an easy target. A small girl with hand-me-down clothes and no friends. During school,I hid in the fringes and usually ate lunch with a girl named Mackenzie.

Kenz was a hot-head. She could spit an insult at you, so cruel and mean it would leave your head spinning. Because of this she had no friends. No one was willing to take the risk of making her mad. Once you got to know her she was really a softie at heart. The reason she lashed out at people was because her parents abused her at home. The only reason she confessed was because after I saw her bruises, I wouldn't shut-up. Somehow I convinced her to call 911 and get help. After, she became happier and lived with her Aunt Nyssa. Soon, she moved away into England and out of France. We never got in touch again.

That left me alone with my only friends, the shadows. Yes, I said _shadows _and no I'm not crazy. Mom had me checked. I had thought I was for awhile, until the shadows talked back. They started talking to me when I was around 4 or 5. They tapped into my emotions, I guess. I was just realizing they hated me. So, I was sitting my room coloring and singing a nonsense song. I was stretched out on the floor and wondering if I should try to play with Mae (My sister). My thoughts were cut off, when I heard, 'You have a really nice voice!' I know 'Stranger Danger! Stranger Danger!' but the voice sounded kinda like mine. So, I said thank you and popped my head up to see if it was Mae. When I didn't see her anywhere I was crushed. But, I was also really confused. If it wasn't Mae or Mommy or Daddy, who was it? 'Hi! I'm Mia Grimm, what's your name?' I didn't know a Mia but that wasn't the oddest thing. The oddest thing was that it was coming from a tall shadow on my wall. Now, I felt really confused. I was lying down and it wasn't Mae or my family. But, it was being nicer than my whole family. So, I gave it toothy grin and said 'Thank You'.

After, that I went down stairs talking to my Mom about Mia. She cursed in English, a language I only knew bits and pieces of, and the next day off to the Doctors. After that incident I learned to be quiet about Mia.

Mom and Dad were very proud of Mae. Though her schoolwork was terrible she was a Grade A pain in my a**. Every single boy I had a crush on was soon taken away by Mae's good looks and her "charm". Which all just disappeared after she had her fill of them. About her looks, I couldn't blame them. She had a perfect mix of curvy and slender body that was a sun-kissed tan color. Her hair was golden and shone like a diamond. Pools of pure blue were her irises of her eyes, with a pitch black pupil and pure white surrounding it. She was my mom's carbon copy and I couldn't help but be jealous. They make my pale skin and dark brown-black eyes seem dull and lifeless. Besides, what could perverted 13 year old boys want from_ me_. A tween with a kids body.

My Mom stuffs me in Mae's old clothes and calls it done. That doesn't help the body problem either. My Mom and Dad just got tired of feeding me I suppose. Because now they're sending me off to live with my Aunt Sadie. On an island off the coast of Wales. Called Cairnholm.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello, I have decided to continue my one-shot thingy. Now this is going to follow the book but is going to have to be a little AU. Now, if you people would maybe tell me who you want Adalyn shipped with it would help. I have an idea but reviews would be lovely. Of course Jacob is off-limits. He and Emma are going to be live happily ever after. I'm looking at you Ransom Riggs!

And thank you to:

fandomthings200

meggleshi

photosophie

RobstenLuv13

You guys were my first follows and favorites. And that means the world to me. If you find anything that needs fixing or ideas for the story, just tell me. If it's a mistake I'll try to fix it.

Adalyn's P.O.V

I wrap my old, faded, jacket around my tiny frame as the ocean spray hits my face. I'm pretty much dangling over the railing of the ferry. Well, you would to if you could see the shapes in the water. Not shapes, more like shadows. I know they aren't shadow-shadows because they're not moving. They're just sorta hovering like my speech teacher did for the last five years. My feet leave the deck for a second and I'm just leaning against the railing. I feel like I'm flying, well, what flying should fell like. Then, it's over as soon as it begins. A strong hand is pushing on my back until my Sketchers touch the ground. A crewman smiles at me and I realize just how far I was leaning over. "Now," He begins, "Why in the Lord's name were you trying to kill yourself?" A dark crimson color floods my cheeks and chokes them. I try to figure out the right words in English to answer. I hear a loud sigh and look up. He has exaggerated annoyance plastered on his face. His hands are resting on his hips, in a perfect imitation of a teenage girl. I just point desperately to the shapes/shadows under the water. He must understand because he nods and answers, "Whole place full of U-boats. Were sunk in the war." I smile in thanks and the man with the odd accent walks off. His accent was entertaining to listen to. Even if I didn't understand all the words. If they were in French I could probably understand every last bit. Maybe, that's an over-statement but... Nevermind about that! I get to see Aunt Sadie and cousin Megan! But where in the world is Cairnholm? As if prompted by my thoughts a mass of rock appears out of the fog into my line of view. I openly gape at the cliffs. They look like rock versions of the block castles I made when I was little. To a much bigger scale of course. Birds dotted the face of the cliff like sentries to a magical world. I end up straining my neck to try to see the top but the fog only allows us to see part of this mythical world. I notice we're moving into a half-circle bay that guards a field, so dotted with sheep it reminds me of a patchwork quilt. Beyond that a ridge rose to meet a wall of clouds that seemed so thick it could have been made of stone. Pure white stone, of course. It was magical and beautiful. So, unlike anything I've ever seen in reality. It reminded me of something from a picture book I've seen in the library. It's so diffrent from Paris. While Paris is a city of stone, Cairnholm is a city of stone but in a diffirent way. While Paris takes it's magic from the stone, in Cairnholm it seems the island lends the magic to the stone. It may not sound right and it may not make sense but its true. While I was off in La-La Land as Mia calls it, we pulled into the bay I described earlier.

I look at my view as I walk through the island town. Whitewashed cottages completed the look of a quaint island. Only to be bashed by the satellite dishes and generators (complete with the smell of diesel) buzzed through the maze of gritty, gravel streets, bathed in mud. I glance at the damp paper in my hand. Blue shutters, red door, is bouncing through my head like a rubber ball. I repeat my new mantra under my breath as I walk through the grid of streets. Mud slowly making its way up my faded and torn jeans. I glance down to see how my Sketchers are faring and wince. The mud has decided, Let's kill Addy's Sketchers!, woop-dee-do. I catch a glimpse of blue shutters and a red door. Running up to it, I beat my hand against the door desperatly. It flys open and big amber, doe eyes gleam up at me. "Lynnie!" Is screamed at me and a toddler throws herself against my knee. "Hey to you too, Meggy." I greet the brunette calmly as if it will calm her mood. Heaving her on my hip my Aunt Sadie pops her head round the corner as I walk in, shrugging my shoes off on the mat. "Ah, Lynnie, welcome!" She pulls me into a one-armed hug, shifting a baby with the other.  
Before we go any farther, you should probaly know about my extended family. Aunt Sadie is the idenitcal twin of my mother. Though the lack of sunlight and heavy wind has paled and weathered her once tan skin. Her blue eyes have laugh lines my mother's eyes lack and her blonde hair is more pale. Meg looks nothing like Aunt Sadie but more like my Uncle Brien. Now, Uncle Brien died in a boating accident before Meg was born. I can tell it hurts Aunt Sadie everytime she looks at Meg. Meg has the same coloring as her father, amber eyes, pale skin and brown hair. About the baby? Yeah, no idea.  
I look at the baby who has dark eyes and dark hair. I just raise my eyebrows at Aunt Sadie and she laughs. "Dylan? He ain't mine! God, girl, your face!" Aunt Sadie talks in French and I'm grateful. Meg pulls on Aunt Sadie's long skirt. "Did Lynnie think Dyl' was ours?" Meg talks in French also, which is easier for her than English. As Aunt Sadie nods Meg bursts out laughing. That causes a smile to break out on my face. "Gosh, I'm not invisible." I say this in an annoyed tone, matching the crewman's stance. "Did ya hear something Meggie?" Aunt Sadie asks rocking Dylan. She winks at Meg, hinting. Meg catches on and says, "Nope, just a fly." She shrugs and skips off into the living/dining room. I follow her and sweep her off her feet and yell, "Invisible?" She squeals and screams. I drop her on the couch and she curls up. Aunt Sadie laughs and tells us to knock it off.  
That night, Meg cuddled against my stomach, Mia shows up. "Hey, Mia-Oh-My-Ah. How was life?" "Quiet, without you." I can hear the smile in her voice and arms are crossed over her chest. She bends over the shadow over me and Meg on wall. Her hand disapears and I feel an ice cold feeling shudder through my body. "Stop it!" I whisper-shout. She giggles and I look at Meg worriedly. What if she wakes up? "Who's the munchkin?" "Meggie." "Aww, she's adorable!" Mia cooes at Meg. "I know." I boast like a mother during a school play. "Anyway, just wanted to check in Addy. Now, get some sleep." She leans over me, not shadow-me, and kisses my forehead. I think all I felt was a cool breeze on my forehead. She then kisses Meg's forehead, as I drift off to sleep._

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up, Lynnie!" Meg's voice screams in my ear. "I'm up, Meggie! I'm up!" I open my eyes to see Meg right above me. I scream because of the proximity of her to my face. Also, because of her morning breath. "Stop your screaming!" Aunt Sadie screams from downstairs. "How can anyone get anything done 'round here with you heathens screaming!" I share a look with Meg and we both giggle. Smells that are other-wordly drift up the steps and Meg's eyes widen considerably.  
"Foods done ya heathens!" Aunt Sadie calls up to us. Meg grabs my hand and darts around the toys littering her floor. Somehow, we manage to make it down the steps without dying. Leaving us to stand gaping in the doorway of the kitchen. Aunt Sadie puts the pancakes on two seperate plates and smirks at us. "Dig in!" She calls over her shoulder making her way to Dylan, who's seated in a high-chair. We both bolt to the chairs smothering our pancakes, hers in syrup and mine in butter.  
Soon, I'm darting out the door dragging Meg, to explore. Aunt Sadie let me use her old boots, so, my sketchers won't die. Again. Soon, she's dragging me out to the cliffs her favorite place ever. We're running across the hills and Meg is screaming/laughing as the birds fly around us. Her amber eyes are huge and they still are when she trips. She lets out a cry and the birds fly away. Big, fat tears are rolling down her face and snot is dripping out of her nose. I'm down on the ground next to her and quickly see what's wrong. Her ankle is all purple and green. It's also very puffy. I put her on my back and hold her good ankle. Her arms are choking my neck but I can't complain. Her brown hair falls out of their twin braids and into my face. I have to walk slow and it's torture. Her whimpers fill my ears and I start to cry myself. She leans up and kisses my cheek and lets her head drop on my shoulder. People give us strange looks in town. Until they see Meg's ankle then the looks turn to pity.  
When we get to Aunt Sadie's house, I kick open the door with my foot and Aunt Sadie is in the kitchen, feeding Dylan. She turns around a smile on her face, but that smile drops as soon as she spots Meg's ankle. "Megan Elizabeth Lorne, what in God's sake happened?"  
"A very big hole." Meg answers back matter-of-factly. I sit her gently on a kitchen chair and she winces.  
"I'm going out." My voice is wobbley and shakey. I run up the steps and grab thicker coat. I skip steps going down and run through the kitchen.  
"And where do you think your going?" Aunt Sadie's voice is steady and rings through the kitchen. Meg seems to be sleeping on the couch and it breaks my heart to see her ankle. All wrapped in white guaze and tape. Following my gaze, Aunt Sadie nods and sighs, "Go on then. Be back by dinner though."  
"Promise!" I yell over my shoulder. "Love you!" was yelled out by my stupid mouth after. I suck in my breath and wait for a response.  
"Love you too, Lynnie!" She shouts back natural as breathing. I grin and jog out of town and into the hills.  
About five minutes into walking, Mia shows up. I tell her about Meg and she sounds heart-broken. We talk somemore in the middle of the path, just about random things. Until, I hear a loud intake of breath. I spin around, almost falling, to see a blond girl in a white dress. She starts to run towards me and I panic. I turn to run and I get a couple feet before something rams into me. I fall into the thick, disgusting mud. Ends up the something was the girl. She hauls me up by my wrist and I struggle. Why? It's called the madhouse. If she can hold me, it's a one way ticket. And then she does something anazing. She lights her hand on fire. I repeat on fire. Her. Hand. On. Fire. She also doesn't seem to be in pain. Hand. On. Flippen. Fire. No. Pain. She trys to sooth me by saying,  
"See, I'm peculiar too." I calm down, slightly.  
"What's a peculair?" I question the tall, blonde girl. She smiles slightly,  
"Someone who can do amazing things, other people can't. Like us." The questions keep coming.  
"Are their more peculiars?"  
"Tons" She answers, smiling again.  
"Can I meet them?"  
"'Course, how about now?" I have to think on that. What about Aunt Sadie and Meg? But these are people like me. Maybe, I won't be a freak with them.  
"Great." I smile at her. "One more question, what's your name?"  
"Emma Bloom." She laughs the words and her laugh is surprisingly delicate sounding. I mean, she is pretty. But, pretty in a 'Don't Touch! Danger!' sort of way. Like a snake or scorpion.

"And your name?" Her voice pulls me out of my thoughts.  
"Adalyn Di Ville."


	3. Chapter 3

Hello readers! I've gotten two more follows and two more favorites on Shadows! And a review!  
Thank you to:  
broweiss27  
for favoriting and following and posting my first review!  
Also to:  
dancedivaanime  
for favoriting and following  
I'm sorry for any spelling/grammar issues. The spell-check on my laptop is broken. Now, I'm going to try to update every week but I play soccer and volleyball. So, that might not work out. Though I will post at least every month. Now, that updates are cleared up, enjoy!  
Disclaimer: I sadly do not own 'Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children'. That belongs to Ransom Riggs, who better not put my babies through any more trauma. Okay? Okay.

Adalyn's P.O.V

"No, Em!"  
"Please,Addy! Millards going too!" I groan and cover my ears with my pillow. Emma found out I've never seen the house out of the loop. Now, she was on a mission to take me to see it.  
"Then, I'll plan a nice funeral for you!" I retort. God, she was driving me crazy! Around ten years in the loop and I've never gotten used to her loud ways.  
"I doubt an hour in the loop would kill us, Addy" Millards voice made it's way twards me. The bed dipped in slightly on my right. I sigh and repeat,  
"No!"  
"Please!"  
"No!"  
"Please!"  
"No!"  
"Please!"  
"No!"  
"Please!"  
"No!"  
"Please!"  
"No!"  
"Please!"  
"Fine!" I give up trying. Emma smirks in victory and jumps up. She brushs imaginery dirt off her white dress and pulls me up. I smooth off my own dress and sigh. She pull me out of our room and into the hallway. Running past Olive and Claire, who are playing hopscotch, with Olive bouncing higher with each step, and Fiona, who is reading a book about God knows what. The only indication Millard is behind us is the echoing footsteps thundering through the hall. We almost ran into Miss Peregrine but Emma pulls us into Claire and Olive's bedroom. Stepping on a doll, I hiss in pain. That prompts Emma to elbow me in the ribs. After her steps fade away, Emma opens the door and we bound down the steps. Horace looks surprised as we ran past. I laughed at his face and Emma's laugh joins mine. We run past Enoch who doesn't look surprised but Enoch rarely looks anything but annoyed. I wave as we run past causing him to raise his hand back in a lazy half-wave. Emma grabs my hand and pulls me, causing me to fly forward and land in the dirt. I glare up at her and she just shrugs. I glare harder causing Millard to laugh and Enoch smirk in amusement.  
"She looks like a kitten trying to be a tiger!" He practically yells this and Emma bursts out laughing. She looks me over and nods, still grinning.  
"Oh my God, she does, doesn't she?"  
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. can we go know?" I drop the glare and sigh, pushing myself to my feet. Emma is letting out random giggles and Millard is still chuckling. She grabs my hand and pulls me but this time I'm ready. So, she pulls me forward and not down.  
"Didn't fall this time!" I yell, sticking my tounge out at them. But, of course, me being a klutz, ends up falling on my face. This sends Millard and Emma into a fresh fit of laughter.  
"Oh, come on! Time for you to see modern Cairnholm!"

Modern Cairnholm sucks. It all looks the same as it did before I came to the loop. But I'll admit the house looks amazing. Creepy but amazing. Trees had exploded from the broken remains of the windows, leaving them to look like something out a horror movie. Vines have chewed at the walls leaving holes and some still hang there like menencing snakes. Part of the roof had collapsed, leaving the sky to show through it's edges, like broken glass. Waist high weeds guarded the decaying, shell of a house. Broken glass covered the rotten porch. Smeared and partially broken windows showed outlines of broken furniture. Minutes ago, I had waded through the bog. Coming from a complete and magestic house. The houses are as diffrent as Yin and Yang. We wade through the broken glass, Emma lifting me part of the way. The hallway are as dark as night and just as creepy. Coats, which when I woke up were clean and neat, are ragged and green with mold and age. Miss Peregrine's newspapers lay in clumps and drift around the room. Claire's toy bear lays in a pile of stuffing looking depressed. Olive's dolls are laying around looking like someone went at them with a knife. I even find the stuffed cat, the two girls gave me. It's not as dark in here, though the windows look like dark blankets, covered with mold. "This place is amazing." I told Emma my footsteps creaking on the floorboards.  
"I know right? Told you it would be worth it." She had a point. I just nodded my head mutely. And then I felt a hand on my elbow, pulling me back. Emma who was still talking fell silent. There was a giant gaping hole in the middle of the floor. An outline of a person looking through pictures on the floor of the basement. Because of the blanket of mold on the window the actual pictures wern't visible, only the outline. The figure fell silent and stopped moving. Something below us made a sound that, in the silence, sounded like thunder. Then, Emma spoke up softly, "Abe?" I heard about him, he left before I came to the loop. Emma always said we would either get along great or fight every day. Emma continued, "Is that you?" She's squinting in the darkness and pulling an annoyed face. She lights her hand up and the shadows take human form. I count four and smile. They still care about me, even if slightly.  
Let me explain. Every time someone dies their sprit goes to either Heaven or Hell but their shadow stays. The shadows are mere echoes of their former selves. But, thats enough for them to gain a mind and personality. The four shadows are Kenz, Aunt Sadie, Uncle Brian and Meg. Yes, Kenz is dead. I got a letter from her Aunt Nyssa, she was in a really bad car accident. I cried for weeks, rememebering the kind girl with the horrible life. I cried for months when Miss Peregrine told me Meg was dead. She fell down the cliffs she so dearly loved. She was four. Aunt Sadie commited suicide after Meg. She wrote a letter about me and Meg. Everyone thought I had died or was lost to the hills or cliffs. That's why Meg was out there, looking for me. I had almost commited suicide but surprisingly Enoch knocked me out of it. He had yelled at me about how Meg, Kenz, Aunt Sadie and Uncle Brian would be ashamed. Not to mention Emma.  
Speaking of Emma, she was in the process of standing to get a better look at the figure. When she did his, it was definitley a he and about Emma's age, jaw dropped and he openly gaped at us. Emma's face folded in on itself and I could tell this was not Abe.  
"Who's that?" I murmur to Emma.  
"No idea. Mill?" She asks the question to the space beside her.  
"Never seen him." That surprises me Millard always knows everything about everything in Cairnholm. Emma pulls me up and he starts to move. We move fast and the shadows dissapear. By the time we get outside the sun has returned from its break. We're running through the woods by the time he breaks out of the house.  
"Wait! Stop!" He's yelling at us and Emma pulls me to a stop. I accidently step on a branch and it gives a loud snap. His head turns to where we're hiding and Emma pulls me along. She grabs my hand and we take a maze-like path through the forest. Eventually, the forest turns to the bogland. Emma knows exactly where to step, so we won't get sucked under. We leave the boy behind easily and only our footprints are left.  
He then did something unexpected he followed us into the cairn. Emma, Millard and I watch as he gets in trouble with the bartender and ran into an outhouse. He slips out and Emma grabs him by the hair. She then presses a knife to his throat.  
"Scream and I'll cut you," Emma told him. I would say that's a little harsh but he could be a wight. Keeping the blade of the knife to his neck, she steps around so she can face him. He looked surprised it was Emma and she looked _mad_. I hope she doesn't to something she regrets, like cut his throat open. She glares at him and asks, well more like hisses, "What are you?"  
He looks confused and scared when he stammers back, "An-uh-I'm an American, I'm Jacob." The name suits him oddly enough. Emma presses the knfe harder against his throat with shaking hands.  
"What were you doing in the house? Why are you chasing us?" She demands to know and he looks even more confused. When he catches sight of me it goes away a little. Only a little.  
"I just wanted to talk to you! Don't kill me!"  
"Talk to me about what?" She retorts with a scowl.  
"About the house-about the people who lived there." His words are hurried and fast together, paniced.  
"Who sent you here?" Emma questions him more. His accent is funnier than Emma's and Fiona's and Enoch's, so I let her continue.  
"My grandfather. His name was Abraham Portman." I wince he hit a sore spot. Emma loved Abe and he left her. Now, this person/thing is saying he's Abe's grandson. Poor Emma.  
Her eyes flash like lightning and her mouth falls open. "That's a lie! You think I don't know what you are? I wasn't born yesterday! Open your eyes-let me see your eyes!"  
"I am They are!" He opens his eyes wide like a bugs. Emma stands on her tiptoes and stares into them. She must deem them fake because she stamps her foot on the ground.  
"No, your real eyes! Those fakes don't fool me any more than your ridiculous lie about Abe!" She shouts in his face.  
"It's not a lie," he insists, "-and these are my eyes!" God, why is everyone shouting? Emma starts pushing hard against his throat. I touch my throat and wince. That must hurt. "Look, I'm not whatever it is you think I am," He croaks out, "I can prove it!" He says desperatly. I watch as Emma's hand relaxs slightly. Slightly.  
"Then, prove it, or I'll the grass with your blood!" She practically screams at him. God, people it's not a screaming match.  
"I have something right here." He starts to reach into his jacket and Emma screeches like a banshee. She leaps back, pointing her blade right between his eyes. "It's only a letter! Calm down!" I don't remember people being quite this loud before I came to the loop. Emma lowers the blade back down to his neck, so it hangs in the air, just like the awkward silence. He slowly draws what looks like a letter and photo out of his jacket.  
"This doesn't prove anything!" Emma declares, a decibal lower. She barely looks at the letter and I take it out of her hands.  
It reads:  
Dearest Abe,  
I hope this note finds you safe and in & in the best of health. It's been such a long time since we last recieved word from you! But I write not to admonish, only to let you know that we still think of you often & pray for your well-being. Our brave, handsome Abe!  
As for life on the island, little has changed. But quiet and orderly is the way we prefer things! I wonder if we would recognize you, you after so many years, though I'm certain you'd recognize us- those few who remain, that is. It would mean a great deal to have a recent, picture of you, if you've one to send. I've included a positively ancient snap of myself.  
E misses you terribly. Won't you write to her?

With respect and admination,  
Headmistress Alma LeFay Peregrine


	4. Chapter 4

Hello readers! Sorry, I haven't updated but conditioning is torture. Never do it, fake an injury! Sorry, little melodramatic at times. And thank you to *drum roll* dancedivaanime for reviewing! dancedivaanime: I agree I can't really choose. I'm leaning towards Enoch  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except Addy and my minor OCs. Ransom Riggs made up one of my favorite fictional worlds, so it belongs to him. Also, do any of you know where I can read Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children online? Writing from Jacob's P.O.V would be great and way easier! Now, onto the story! (Correct any mistakes I make, please!)

Addy's P.O.V  
Shouts erupt from the end of the alley. Men armed with farm tools and wooden clubs run towards us.  
What's this? What've you done?" Emma questions him, bringing my attention back to them. Where's Bronwyn when you need her?  
You're not the only person who wants to kill me!" Jacob shouts. God, we really need Bronwyn.  
Emma takes the knife from his neck and places it firmly at his side. She roughly grabs him by his collar and says, "You are now my prisoner. Do as I exactly as I say or you'll regret it!" Emma has a flair for dramatics. She could easily make it in theater. He stays silent probably wondering who would kill him first. Drunks or an unstable girl and the girl hiding in her shadow? She shoves him and I grasp the letter and follow them. We're running down a connecting alleyway when Emma ducks under a clothesline full of pristine, white sheets. That I can do easily but jumping the chicken-wire fence is going to be harder. I jump and barely make it into the yard of a little cottage. "In here," she whispers, dragging him inside with tagging along. It smells terrible and very, very cramped. The only one here is a old dog on the sofa, who looks asleep. I flop next to him and scratch his ears. I don't pay attention to Emma and Jacob's conversation. I wish I did because he is currently passed out on the floor.  
_Time-Skip_  
Emma is pacing a hole in the floor, while having a very animated conversation with Millard. I just dangle my legs off the edge of the table and stare at him. Jacob. He could be a wight but he looks awfully young. He seems nice albeit a bit loud. Other than stalking us and freaking out Emma, he seems okay. His eyes are slightly open and I keep staring. The dog, wobbles over and licks his face. I giggle and jump of the table.  
"Well, look who's up!" Emma says in a sarcastic tone, very cross. Millard and I disagree with her about him and she hates it. She starts to give sarcastic clap, to which earns her a warning look. She rolls her eyes at me and I sigh. "That was quite the performance you gave earlier," Emma continues her rant, "I particularly enjoyed the fainting. I'm sure the theater lost a fine actor when you chose to devote your life instead to murder and cannibalism." Emma's accent come's out strong during the speech. I smile at it, the accents are something I will never get used to. His mouth flies open and he freezes when he sees the cup Millard is holding.  
"Have some water," Millard tells him. "Can't have you dying before we get you back to the headmistress, now can we?" He reaches for the cup and looks freaked at the way its floating.  
"Actually," I begin, "We can. Miss. Peregrine would think Emma made it up for dramatics and Mia could easily take care of the body." I smirk a little at his face and giggle. I don't know what freaked him out more. My half-accent or comment.  
"No, we can't. He's also clumsy." Millard states this like he does with every fact.  
"You're invisible," He replies, like an idiot..  
"Indeed. Millard Nullings, at your service.  
"Don't tell him your name!" Emma cries out.  
"And this is Emma," he continues like she never interrupted, "She's a bit paranoid, as I'm sure you gathered."  
Emma glares at where he should be, as I introduce myself. "I'm Adalyn but everyone calls me Addy. Cept' Miss. Peregrine, of course."  
"Quiet!" Emma hisses at us and it's my turn to roll my eyes. They blinds part slightly and Millard, I think, peers out. "What's happening?" Emma asks Millard.  
"They're searching the houses," he answers her, "We can't stay here much longer"  
"Well, we can't very well go out there!"  
"I think perhaps we can," he says, "Just to be certain, though, let me consult my book." The blinds silently slip down and Millard's leather-bound notebook rises from the table. He hums as he flips through the pages. I bounce up and down on my toes, while we wait. He suddenly snaps the book shut and exclaims, "As I suspected!" he practically yells, "We have only to wait a minute or so an then we can walk straight out the front door."  
"Are you mad?" Emma asks, at least she doesn't yell. "We'll have everyone of those knuckle-draggers on us with those brick bats!" And there's the yelling.  
"Not if we're less interesting then what's about to happen," he tells her. "I can assure you, this is the best opportunity we'll have for hours."  
Emma unties Jacob from the range and drags him to the door. We all crouch by the door, waiting for Millard's distraction. Emma's face is scrunched up in annoyance and confusion. I'm sure mine is too. Until, we hear engines as loud as a herd of men. Louder than the ones out side at least.  
"Oh! Millard, that's brilliant!" Emma exclaims to be heard over the noise.  
Millard sniffs and says, "And you said my studies were a waste of Emma puts her hand on the doorknob and turns to Jacob.  
"Take my arm. Don't run. Act like nothing's the matter." She then puts away her knife but reassures him that she will still kill him.  
"How do I know you won't anyway?" He asks, questioning her previous statement.  
"You don't." She answered and then opened the door.

_Time-Skip_

Jacob gazed up at the house in wonder, not unlike I had. He stared at the turrets and chimneys. At the rambling house with not a single shingle out of order. Even the flagstone path was perfect. I know because that's what I have to do, polish the flagstone, when I mouth off at Miss. Peregrine. Emma and Millard lead him up the pristine steps onto the porch. I run ahead of them and slip my shoes off. I run up the stairs to the girl's, as in Olive and Claire, room. They're both flopped on Claire's bed whispering. I creep up behind them and yell, "BOO!" They shriek and Claire falls off the bed.  
"Finally, you're back! We can go play now!" Olive's voice is loud and demanding but not unkind. Claire grabs my hand and pulls me while Olive plods along with her lead shoes.  
When we get outside, Hugh and Horace are kicking a ball. Enoch, as usual, is sitting to the side messing with his dolls. They pay no attention to us as Claire pulls me to the ground and demands me to braid. I comply and weave flowers into her braids. Fiona wonders over and hands me daisies and buttercups.  
By the time Olive gets outside Hugh kicks a ball straight into the centaur's chest. They beckon Olive over and she plods along. She raises her arms and they slip a rope around her waist. She slips her shoes off carefully and floats up and down gently.  
"Let me up!" Olive demands and the boys oblige. Claire glances at the window and tugs on my hand.  
"Why is that person staring at us?" She asks looking at Jacob.  
"Because he has never seen peculiars before, Claire Bear." Her face turns to shock. She looks so deep in shock, she almost gets hit by Olive's foot as she comes down.  
"Hey, Fi! We need your help!" Hugh yells over to the silent Fiona on the hill. She walks over slowly, her wild hair waving in its own invisible wind. She bends down and takes a firm grip on the centaur's tail. She shuts her eyes masking the dark, forest green, in deep concentration.  
The centaur's hand moves sleepily, its fingers start to follow the hands example. It bends its elbow and stabs his hand in his chest. He plucks the ball out and tosses it to Hugh and Horace, eliciting cheers from our little group.  
Fiona lets a small but radiant smile out and she lets go of the tail. She walks back to the hill and sits down, causing the centaur to still its movements.  
Olive makes her way back to us and yawns.  
Bronwyn runs down the lawn to us and announces, "Nap Time!" Olive and Claire groan in unison.  
"But its to far!" Olive complains. Bronwyn hoists her effortlessly on her back and I take Claire's hand. The four of us walk across the bright, green lawn. "We won't be tired tonight," Olive warns us.  
"How many times have I heard that?" I ask Bronwyn.  
"'Bout a million at least," Bronwyn answers back. We make eye contact and the laughs escape our mouths.  
In the house, we pass by Emma who's crouching by the door to Miss Peregrine's office. She nods to us curtly and goes back to...whatever she's doing! When we get to Claire and Olive's room, we have to jump around the toys littering the floor. They both crawl into their beds and I nod to Bronwyn.  
"I got it from here, Wyn" She nods and smiles at me.  
"Tell us a story, please!" Claire begs, as I pull the curtains shut.  
The room darkens and I nod a yes.  
"Once upon a time, there lived a home of peculiar children on a peculiar island..." By the time the stories finished, both of the girls are fast asleep. I tip-toe out of the room and shut the door. I want to go to my own room and sleep but almost step on a stray homunculus. I sigh knowing it will bother me all day if I don't return it. I walk down the steps and out of the house, onto the lawn. Everyone is gone except Enoch and Hugh, the latter trying to round up his bees.

Narrotor P.O.V

"Um, I think this is yours." The quiet, teasing voice asked. Addy held the stray homunculus with a single pale hand.  
"It is," Enoch answered, in the usual fashion. He reached for it and Addy handed it over reluctantly. She almost felt bad for it. The flush that popped up on her face, when her hand and Enoch's brushed, choked her pores. She scratched at it idely and flopped, dramaticly, next to Enoch.  
"I'm tired," She whined, complaining but not wanting to go into the dark room, by herself.  
"Then, go to sleep." Enoch's voice was matter-of-fact and slightly annoyed.  
"But, it's dark in there!"  
"It is every night." He pointed out.  
"But, I'm usually in Claire's room for her nightmares."  
"So?"  
"So, I'm not by myself. Duh!" Addy usually didn't instigate but its Enoch. He would instigate anyway.  
"Don-"  
"Hey, would you to stop bickering already? The Bird said, its time for dinner." Hugh's voice was amused and annoyed but mostly annoyed.  
Enoch made his way up, abandoning his homunculi.  
"Help me!" Addy yelled, not wanting to get up. Enoch rolled his eyes and muttered something about, 'stupid Addy'. But he still helped her up, getting his own blush after she stumbled into him. Addy giggled at his reddened face and she smirked at his put-off expression. He mumbled more about 'stupid females' and made his way to the house. Addy jogging behind him.

Author's Note:  
How was that? Sorry, I switched up to past tense but 3rd person is easier to write that way. How was it? Feedback is greatly appreciated!


	5. Update

First of all, I know your not supposed to do this but I have bad news. My wifi is gone for a month. So, irregular updates or none. I'm sorry but I can't help it. Again, sorry. I did redo the chapters and more are coming.


	6. Chapter 5

Hello, readers! My wifi is going to be out another couple weeks but my amazing friend Cait has let me use her wifi! Anyway, enjoy the update!  
Disclaimer: I sadly do not own Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children. If I did the storyline would be crap. I only own my wonderful OC and minor OCs.

Narrator P.O.V

"For those of you who haven't already had the pleasure of meeting him," Miss Peregrine started, "this is Abraham's grandson, Jacob. He is our honored guest and has come a very long way to be here. I hope you will treat him accordingly." She then pointed to all of us, reciting our names. Looking at Jacob's perplexed look I'm positive he forget at least half of them. He looked quite comical in Victor's too big, worn-out, old trousers. They're hitched up to the middle of his stomach with the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The questions that follow Miss Peregrine's introduction are fired at him with amazing speed, slightly overlapping each other.

"Is Jacob going to stay with us?" Olive asks Miss Peregrine.

"Not to my knowledge." She calmly answers back, not effected by Olive's hyper mood in the least.

"Where's Abe?" Hugh questions her.

"Abe is busy in America." She answers back, somehow, still calm.

"Why does Jacob got Victor's trouser's on?" Bronwyn asks her, possessive over Victor's things.

"Victor doesn't need them anymore," Miss Peregrine states, causing Bronwyn to flinch slightly, "and 's are being washed."

"What's Abe doing in America?"

Emma, hearing this question, jumps from her corner and stalks to her room to sulk. She does this at least once a week. No one pays attention to her moods anymore.

"Never mind what Abe's doing," MIss Peregrine snaps, the question breaking her calm demeanor like glass.

"When's he coming back?" Claire asks quietly, somewhat scared of Miss Peregrine's mood.

"Never mind that, too. Now let's eat!" her calm mood back and repaired.

Everyone rushes to their seats that Miss Peregrine assigned. After a particularly nasty argument between Hugh and Bronwyn, in which various foods were thrown, Miss Peregrine decided that she wouldn't have that nonsense again. I usually sit between Olive and Fiona but Fiona had kitchen duty and was absent. Bronwyn had duty too, so Olive focused her full attention on me.

"Do you think Miss Peregrine will let us watch the change-over? Will you be in me and Claire's room tonight? What's for supper?" she questions me rapidly, her mouth moving a mile a minute.

"Maybe. Most likely. No idea." I answer her back.

"How many times do I have to tell you, polite persons do not take their supper in the nude!" Miss Peregrine said, scolding Millard.

"Ew!" Olive and Claire exclaim in unison, I think they'll never get used to him doing that. It would be very awkward to sit upon Millard, its awkward enough bumping into him when he decides to go nude.

Fiona and Bronwyn come out with the silver dishes, their covers hiding the food inside. Many of the kids have taken a liking to yelling out what they think is for supper. Enoch and Millard even make bets over it. Some of the options the others yell out are just silly, like, 'Otters Wellington' and 'Salted kitten and shrew's liver'. The latter would appear to be Enochs'. Olive and Claire make gagging sounds and I join them.

However, when the covers are lifted a golden-brown roasted goose, salmon and cod, each outfitted with lemons, dill and melting butter, mussels still steaming, plates full of vegetables (at which, Claire makes a face), loves of bread just pulled from the oven, and jellies and sauces which are of Fiona's creation.

Jacob stares at us as we all eat. I can see why. Hugh with his netted hat and Olive with her belted chair. I don't know why he's staring at Claire, until he asks her, "Aren't you hungry?"

Hugh answers for her, "Claire doesn't eat with the rest of us, she's embarrassed." During his statement, one of his golden bees escapes from his mouth.

"I am not!" Claire says, glaring at him. If looks could kill, Hugh would be seven feet under.

"Yeah? Then eat something!" he challenges her. I just shake my head, he really shouldn't wind her up.

"No one here is embarressed of their gifts," Miss Peregrine cuts off the formulating argument. "Miss Densmore simply prefers to dine alone. Isn't that right, Miss Densmore?"

Claire just simply stares at her plate, her face bright red with a blush.

"Claire has a backmouth," Millard explains to a clueless Jacob.

"A what?"

"Go on, show him!

Then, everyone at the table starts to agree. Pressuring her to eat and show Jacob her backmouth. And she finally does, mostly to shut everyone up.

Someone sets a leg of goose on her plate. She turns around so she's facing backwards in the chair. She grips the arms of her chair and dips backwards, the back of her head touching the plate. After a smacking sound, she lifts her head up. Showing a bite out of the goose leg.

She turns forward and crosses her tiny arms. She sinks back in her chair and pouts. Annoyed that she was so easily talked into a demonstration. She sulked in silence as the others shot questions at Jacob. No one was willing to risk another outburst from Miss Peregrine, they mainly stick to what the twenty-century is like.

"What sort of flying motorcars do you have?" Horace asks him, regal looking in his dark suit.

"None, not yet anyway." Jacob tells him, causing a disappointed look to cross his face.

"Have they built citites on the moon?"

"We left some garbage and a flag there in the sixties, but that's about it."

"Does Britain still rule the world?" Olive asks, looking way to excited to hear the answer.

"Uh," Jacob stutters, "Not exactly."

"Does France?" I ask, hoping the answer would be yes. Hearing my question, the other kids perk up. Only to slouch as Jacob answers with a shake of his head.

Miss Peregrine takes the momentary lull in the conversation to make a very old point, "You see children? The future isn't so grand after all. Nothing wrong with good old here and now!"

I roll my eyes, careful not to let her see. Already got sent to my room for teasing Horace about his suit.

"Do you mind if I ask how old you all are?" Jacob asks us, looking around at all of us.

"I'm eighty-three," Horace tells him proudly.

Olive raises her hand quickly, causing her to bounce up a little against the belt, "I'll be seventy-five and a half next week!"

"I'm either one hundred seventeen or one hundred eighteen," seeing Jacob's weird look, he gives an explanation, "I lived in another loop before this one,"

"I'm nearly eighty-seven," An invisible Millard tells us, opening his mouth to show a jaw full of half chewed food. Most everyone groaned and turned away or covered their eyes.

Jacob proceeds to tell us that that he's around sixteen. Our eyes all widen and Olive even laughs in surprise.

A boom echoes through the house and cuts off Olive's laughter. It rattles the silverware and plates making Jacob look up surprised.

"Hurry up and finish, everyone!" Miss Peregrine calls out to us, just as a picture falls off of the wall behind Jacob.

"What is that?" he asks.

"It's those damned Jerries again!" Olive growls reminding me of a child throwing a temper tantrum.

The usual buzzer sounding alarm drifted to the house from the village.

Jacob's eyes widened to the size of dish plates, "We have to get out of here," he tells us in a panicked voice, "We have to go before the bomb hits!"

Olive giggles and says, "He doesn't know! He thinks we're going to die!" I feel sympathy for him rise in my chest. He thinks he's going to die.

"It's only the changeover, "Millard tells him casually, shrugging his shoulders through his jacket, "No need to get your knickers in a twist."

"This happes every night?"

Miss Peregrine nods, "Every single evening,"

"May we go outside and show Jacob?" Hugh asks her.

Claire perks up, all traces of sulking gone, "Yes, may we? The changeover is ever so beautiful!"

Miss Peregrine tries to protest about how almost none of us has finished our dinners but everyone pleads with her until she agrees to let us go out but we have to wear our masks.

We all burst out of our chairs, leaving Olive screeching bloody murder until Bronwyn goes back for her. We run through the halls to the door, stopping to grab the gas masks in the hall closet.

Olive runs past me with Claire struggling to keep up on her shorter legs. Because of the masks on their faces, I can only tell who they are by Claire's curls and Olive's bouncing steps. Claire trips and falls but Olive doesn't falter in her running to the hill. Claire huffs and plops an her bottem on the dirt. She turns her face upwards as the drone of planes sounds over the island. I smile and plop down next to her. I also look up at the hazy sky and a muffled blast can be heard. Heat rolls over the air like the island turned into an oven and we were baking. Everyone starts singing the song, perfectly timed to the blasts and bombs.

Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, RUN!

Bang, bang, BANG goes the farmer's gun

He'll get by without his rabbit pie, so

Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, RUN!

As the song ended tracer bullets scored in the sky as the song ended. We all applaud as violent colors fought in the sky. I used to be scared of bangs and the colors but after around ten years it had begun to be normal as breathing.

The rain begun to fall in a drizzle as if bombs had ripped holes in the clouds. The sounds came less frequently and it was time for the fun part. Claire and I stand up to follow everyone when Jacob stumbles to us.

"Where are we going?" he asks.

I want to answer but I also want to see him freak out. Before I have to choose Claire takes one of his hands and I quickly follow her lead. We go around the house to the back to where the bomb will fall.

The huge fresco of Adam appears and Jacob walks away to talk to Fiona.

Through the cloud of reddish smoke a single plane engine cuts through the noise. It comes closer through the trees and what looks like a pebble falls through the clouds. It whistles as it gets closer and a scream cuts through the air. Jacob dives to the ground and he throws his arms over his head as if that would help him, if this were real. I want to laugh but I don't want break the sudden quiet. He uncovers his head and slowly looks up. His eyes pop out of his head when he sees how the trees are frozen as well as the rain. No one spoke as if one sound would break everything. He almost faints when he sees the bomb on the point of Adam's finger.

Then, he does promptly faint onto the ground. Heart of a Lion, that one.

"Can't you just come now?" Olive asks me.

"I'm waiting for Emma to come back from helping Jacob home."

"Please?" Olive asks me, not used to saying the 'p' word.

"Fine, but only because you said 'please', Little Bird." I use the nickname that Olive loves to hear.

She grins and pulls me down the hall, albeit a bit slowly because of her shoes.

"I've got her!" she announces to Claire, who is already curled up in her bed.

"Just get to sleep, Little Bird." I tell her, settling on Claire's bed. Resting my back against the headboard I shut my eyes. Only for Claire to ask a question.

"Why don't I have a nickname?"

"You do,"

"What is it?"

"Claire Bear,"

"What's Bronwyns'?"

"You know it, Olive."

"Claire doesn't,"

"It's Wyn,"

"What's Emma's?"

"Um, I think it's Em."

"What's Fiona's?"

"I don't know, Claire. Hugh calls her Fi,"

"What's Hugh's and Enoch's and yours and Jacob's and Horace's-"

"Slow down, Olive."

"Well, what are they?"

"Um, Bee Boy for Hugh. I don't think Enoch has one. Mine is Addy. Horace has one but you can't hear it."

"Why not?"

"Because,"

"Because why?"

"Not you too, Claire."

"Because why?"

"Just go to sleep,"

"Why?"

"I hate you both."

"Aww, you love us Addy."

"Too much. Now go to sleep."

"Night, Claire. Night, Addy."

"Just go to sleep, Olive."

"Fine..."


End file.
